“Cream, no sugar,” she said, guessing his question. He put in the cream then brought it to her, their fingers brushing in the transaction. How could she want him again? Still? It seemed that a night with Pierce just left her hungry for more.
“You’re still spoiling me,” she teased after she took a sip.
“I thought that was the point.” He bent and captured her lips with his, giving her a kiss that made her simmer all over again. He became more intense when she kissed him back, as if he couldn’t resist her. His fingers slid in her hair and he lifted her to her toes, taking his time with that kiss. Jacquie was breathless when he lifted his head and her heart was racing.
Funny how his effect on her hadn’t diminished. If anything, it seemed more powerful.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” he replied and brushed his lips across hers again, as if he couldn’t help himself. “I enjoyed it, too.”
“Best Valentine’s Day in years.”
“Ever,” he agreed, then paused in the act of refilling his own coffee, his gaze searching. “In how many years?”
“Twenty,” she admitted, unable to duck his scrutiny. “Mitchell died on February 19th. Valentine’s Day was a Monday that year, so we celebrated on the 12th.” Jacquie stopped there, knowing that if she said more, she might end up telling him the whole horrible story, and she really didn’t want to end their time together on that note. She pushed away her residual anger with Mitchell, not wanting it to taint this morning with it either.
Reality was intruding with a vengeance and Jacquie wanted it to go away.
To her relief, Pierce didn’t comment or ask any questions. Instead he turned to indicate the tray from room service as if she’d commented on the weather. Maybe he’d heard the warning signs in her tone or words—he was perceptive. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so ordered the pastry assortment and fruit. Did you want eggs or something hot?”
“No. This is perfect.” Jacquie smiled as she chose a pastry. “This was so great. Thank you again.”
His eyes darkened as he watched her, as intense as that first night in the studio. His tone was careful when he spoke. “That sounds very final.”
“Well, it is. It was just for a night. We agreed on that, didn’t we?” Jacquie sipped her coffee, pretending she didn’t notice Pierce’s sidelong glance. She returned to the couch and waved the pastry. “I think in the spirit of a night out of time, these calories shouldn’t count.”
“Of course not,” Pierce said and finished his coffee. There was finality in the way he put the empty cup down on the coffee table and he hesitated for a moment, as if deciding whether to continue or not. “It doesn’t have to be for just one night, Jacquie.” He spoke as if he thought she might spook. “I’ve been thinking...”
No, no, no. Jacquie didn’t want to have this discussion.
“You shouldn’t.” She kept her tone level. Light but firm. As if it didn’t matter, as if she wasn’t tempted, as if she didn’t dread watching something wonderful shrivel right before her eyes. “But it does have to be over, Pierce.”
“Why?”
“The fact that it was just once is what made it special. It was a date and a one-nighter and it was fantastic. I don’t think it could have been any more perfect. You nailed it.”
He sat on a chair opposite her and again looked poised to jump. She guessed that he didn’t want that coffee any more than he’d wanted the one in the coffee shop. “Then why not do it again?”
Jacquie could feel the tension in him but pretended to be oblivious. If he touched her, she might lose her resolve—but then, he couldn’t do that from the other side of the coffee table.
“Because it wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t be as good.” Jacquie didn’t even taste the bite she took of the pastry. “It would be less.”
“I don’t think that’s a given,” he countered. “It might be better. Wouldn’t you like to find out?”
“No.” Jacquie saw that he was startled by her vehemence. She forced a smile. “Do we have to argue?”
“I think this is just a discussion, not an argument. Tell me what you think. I want to know.”
“Why?”
Pierce frowned down at the carpet. She wondered whether he was going to evade the question or tell her the truth. “Because I never wanted more before,” he confessed finally, giving her a hot look. She was surprised both that he replied and by his intensity. “Once was always enough, but not this time.”
“You’re romanticizing it.”
He smiled and his voice dropped low. “Is romance a problem?”
“Of course not, but this was a deliberate seduction. You pulled out all the stops. It was incredible.”
“But...” he invited, watching her.
“But it was about sex, not romance.”
“That could change.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want a relationship. We talked about that. You said you didn’t want one either.”
“And now you feel cornered because I think it might be worth reviewing our choice.”
“Because now you have expectations, and they’re different from what we agreed upon.”
He shook his head and she knew she shouldn’t have been surprised that he took no offense that she was direct. “No. I have no expectations. Not yet. I’m asking you if we could revisit that agreement, but your answer is clear.” He pushed to his feet with resolve. “If you change your mind, let me know.”
Jacquie felt as if something precious had slipped away but she knew that wasn’t rational. She was protecting something special, keeping the memory of this night safe so it couldn’t be diminished. Still, she didn’t want the pastry anymore and put it on the plate, setting the plate on the coffee table. “I don’t want to part badly.”
“We aren’t parting badly,” Pierce said, but this time, his tone was carefully light. There was a distance between them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re holding me to the terms of
